


Of Angels and Men

by evilever_green



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychology, Repression, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilever_green/pseuds/evilever_green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>
</p>
<h5>

Castiel brought Sam and Dean together because it was the right thing to do. It had nothing to do with his love for Dean. But as Cas deals with important matters in heaven, Dean has apparently been punishing himself...</h5><p>  <sub>Season 6. Part of a larger story. Told from Castiel's unique POV. Sorry if I went overboard with the "language barrier."</sub></p><p>☼</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Angels and Men

 

 

The war in heaven had reached a temporary stalemate.

For the first time in earth-months, Castiel found himself with time to spare.

He went to check on Dean.

...

Cas sat silently, watching Sam and Dean perform their mating rituals. He found it odd that, by his approximation, Dean had mated with Sam more times when he was soulless than he had with any other single creature, including the complete version of Sam. He also observed their positions — this one he understood (from his time spent with Dean, who liked to watch a channel about a Planet of Animals) to be a dog-mating position. He wondered, as he had numerous times, if there was a special significance to this posturing.

He watched Dean close his eyes and clench the bedsheets into his fists as Sam performed a pelvic thrusting motion. Neither of them looked in Cas' direction. He had appeared after their mating ritual started, so he assumed there was a high probability that they hadn't noticed him at all. Cas felt an odd scratching sensation inside his brain as Dean reached orgasm, his face fully flushed and alternating between expressions Cas recognized as pleasure and pain. Sam was a large specimen, and Cas assumed that this was something that caused 'inner turmoil,' or perhaps hemorrhoids.

The mental itching continued, and Castiel was forced to admit that he was still inwardly awash with human emotions, at least when it came to Dean. Dean was special. Cas didn't like to see the pain Sam caused Dean; he preferred to see the pleasure that had been on Dean's face when he had learned to perform that same mating ritual. Dean was frowning now. When he slept with Castiel, he typically smiled.

But when Dean's brother had gone to hell, Cas had known that Dean would be helpless to defy his brother's last wish—that he should mate with the human, Lisa, in Sam's absence—though he had punctuated that home-life with desperate attempts at retrieving his brother. Cas would have volunteered to take care of Dean in Sam's stead, but he knew not to be an 'interloper.' Besides, the nagging sensation inside him presented the argument that Dean should be happy regardless of what Castiel wanted. Castiel couldn't argue with that.

What he could argue with was the current state of affairs — Dean was not happy with his partial-brother. He was deeply distressed by him, yet he continued to copulate with him. Cas couldn't comprehend why he would do such a thing; he abstractly understood that Dean had 'low self-esteem,' but, as a being of light, could not empathize with such a concern. He knew his expression would be regarded as 'indifferent,' but he did not feel indifference: he felt 'disturbed.' Sam increased the rate and force behind his thrusts, and Dean grunted as Sam pumped seminal fluid into his body. A pointless act from a mating perspective, but Cas understood it to be... pleasurable. Dean had grinned 'boyishly' as Cas did it. Now, Dean squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Castiel detected moisture on Dean's eyelashes — he was holding back tears.

Sam's patterns of arousal and copulation had changed since he became soulless. Cas wondered if Dean had failed to account for the amount of restraint Sam showed when influenced primarily by his soul. Castiel felt something akin to anger. Without his soul, Sam was willing to perform the dog-method mating position with Dean until he cried!

As Sam drew out of Dean's body, his eyes flicked over to the shadows where Castiel was sitting. He inclined his head in greeting, then exited to the bathroom.

"Dean," Cas said quietly.

Dean gaped at him, shiny eyes openly expressing hurt, before he closed his mouth and composed his face. "Don't look," he murmured, drawing the bedsheets around himself with shaking fingers.

Cas averted his eyes as directed, but continued to observe Dean's responses.

Dean rubbed his face. "How long have you been there?"

"Seven and a half minutes."

Dean was silent. Then he spoke in an angry tone: "Why would you watch something like that?"

"I was... concerned for your well-being."

For the second time, Dean's response was delayed. Castiel counted three minutes and one quarter.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Do you wanna... get out of here? Just, I dunno, go somewhere else for a bit?"

Cas left, flying to the roof of the motel and perching protectively there.

Then he heard Dean's voice in his head. "Dammit, Cas, that's not what I meant. Get your feathery ass back here. Please _._ "

The 'please' was... vaguely unsettling. Cas flew back to his position inside Dean's room. He felt oddly disinclined to point out that Dean was ordering him around again.

"I meant... do you wanna get out of here _together_ , Cas."

Cas noted that some of the comforting growl had returned to his voice, but made no comment. Dean spoke again.

"Cas, look... Sam'll be back soon. So do you wanna get out of here or not?"

Castiel hesitated. He wanted to, very much, but he didn't want to interfere.

Dean leaned back against the bedframe. "What, you too busy or something?"

"We'll go," Cas said quickly.

"Awesome."

Dean got to his knees unsteadily, feeling around for his underwear. "Fuck," he breathed, putting his knuckles against the mattress for support.

Castiel heard the latch on the bathroom door, and touched Dean's arm gently, flying them to an empty, adjacent room in the motel.

"Dean, I—"

"No, shut up, dammit, you're the one who left. Just... shut up." Dean pulled him into a tight hug.

Cas stood wide-eyed, amazed at the intimacy of their transferal of pressure and body heat. He felt the stirrings of an erection as Dean pressed his naked body against him.

He came to his senses as he observed the tremor in Dean's knees. Aware that Dean would probably get upset about it, he picked Dean up and placed him carefully on the bed. Dean grabbed him by the collar-flaps of his beige overcoat and pulled him down on top of him. "Cas," he growled, pressing the tip of his nose into Cas' cheek.

"Yes, Dean." Cas agreed, keeping very still so he wouldn't do something stupid. Dean was vulnerable, and Cas knew better than to... take advantage. (He'd learned something about human sexuality from watching _Oprah_ and Spanish Soap-Opera... Dean was entertained by confusing television programs. Cas had never quite figured out what was so soapy or operatic about romance in Spain—as far as he knew, they didn't sing in bed.)

Cas suppressed a shiver of pleasure as Dean's lips brushed the corner of his mouth.  _Surely an accident,_ he thought. Then he felt Dean's hands on his pants.

"Do you want to fornicate again?"

Dean stared. "Not if you put it that way."

"I see." He allowed his nose to bump into Dean's, sharing air so he could monitor Dean's respiratory rate.

Dean kissed him with silky lips, licking Cas' mouth open gently. Cas suppressed a shudder. He didn't understand why he was still so vulnerable to this carnal desire. When the kiss ended and Cas had recovered slightly from the intense pleasurable sensation it had given him, he asked for clarification—

"This is a pre-coital exercise."

"Ah come on, Cas, don't talk to me in Enochian. You know I don't understand that crap."

Before the apocalypse had started, Sam reluctantly explained to Cas about Dean's 'wall.' He didn't let his wall down frequently, and when he did, Cas was to respect his emotions.

"Dean, you have to stop copulating with him."

Dean looked at him, the beginnings of a smile finally quirking his lips. "You sure have a way with words," he said, in a tone Castiel recognized as derision.

Cas searched for the correct English terms. "There may be... emotional repercussions," he explained.

"Awesome. I thought you were babbling in Enochian, but now I know you're just talking crazy."

"That is not one of the languages I'm familiar with," Cas informed him. He didn't know why Dean was making jokes when he was upset.

Cas never wanted to take the trench coat off, since Dean had said he liked it. Of course, when Dean's response to a simple statement about Castiel's fluency in crazy-tongue was to spread his legs and pull on Cas' trench coat, Cas found himself removing it quite readily. With less fabric between them, Cas became aware that the uncomfortable hardness in his pants was rubbing against Dean's bare bottom, which compounded the problem. Dean pulled him in; Dean kissed him softly. Cas knew it would be unwise for Dean to take two mates, but he was somehow no longer concerned with the pretense of Dean's sometimes-monogamous sexual relationship with his brother.

Cas pressed him down, returning the kiss passionately. He licked Dean's tongue, and Dean gasped a little before taking Cas' face in both of his hands.

"Since you won't get this unless I say it, I, uh, kinda missed you."

Cas grinned. He understood more than Dean thought he did, but he had to admit that there was a mild language barrier. That never stopped the Spaniards in the Operatic Soaps.

Suddenly, his lieutenant, Rachel, spoke to him through the ether.

Castiel. You're needed. Please hurry. And don't tell me you're down there with that Dean Winch—

Rachel, that's enough. I'll be there soon.

He looked down at Dean, who was flushed, smiling, and beautifully naked. For a second, he almost considered 'ditching' the battle with Raphael. But that would undo all of Dean's work, not to mention the pain he went through during the apocalypse, the emotional break he'd had after losing Sam, again...

"Dean," he sighed, feeling nearly human. "I've heard the call from heaven, and I must answer it."

"Right. That's— just perfect."

Cas didn't have time to question Dean's definition of perfection. He held Dean's face in his hands and gazed directly into his eyes. "Dean, I will... come back for you."

Dean gave a scornful laugh. "Yeah, yeah. Go do what you need to do."

Cas shook him a little, pouring his might into their eye contact. "I live up to my word, Dean."

He quickly returned Dean to his room, to his nearly-Sam. Then he steeled himself for battle, and flew back to heaven.

The sounds of war and the smell of carnage assaulted his senses. He took a moment to center himself before assuming command of his troops. "I'm sorry for leaving you, Dean," he whispered to nothing, in the direction of Earth.


End file.
